"Fuck," Ronan gasps. "Fuck..." Not in answer to Kylo's order, but in answer to the assault. Every snap is a lightning strike. He starts to curl in on himself, to retreat from the raw power that's setting his spine on fire. Kylo's arms are there to stop him, forcing Ronan to remain stretched flat beneath him.

He gathers up his strength to choke out, "This is what I need." And it is. Nothing - man or dream - has ever given him anything close to the pleasure that Kylo inflicts on him every single day. It would be impossible.

Because no one else possesses him. No one else can take command of every nerve, control every inch of his body, drive him to pure ecstasy and share in the pleasure. When Kylo takes him, they become a single being caught in a cycle of pursuit and release, Kylo racing to fulfill Ronan's need because Ronan's need is also Kylo's.

"Ruin me," he begs, shivering violently. His spine curves. His legs splay. He wants Kylo as deep as he can possibly take him. He would have Kylo climb into his skin, if he could. "I want everything you have for me."

The sweet and the terrible.